


push up to my body (sink your teeth into my flesh)

by averagefaces



Category: 2PM (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 20:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17474462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averagefaces/pseuds/averagefaces
Summary: Junho wants to touch, wants to taste, wants to pull Chansung closer and taste the sweat at the back of his neck, wants to put his teeth to Chansung's pulse point and leave a trace of himself there.





	push up to my body (sink your teeth into my flesh)

**Author's Note:**

> published february 2016. revised march 2017. reposted january 2019.  
> this is a work of fiction, no harm intended to any parties involved. please do not repost/copy or translate without permission; you're welcome to share this link. thank you for reading!
> 
> warning for sex under the influence and drinking.

****Junho is _on fire_. There's fire under his skin, stretched tight all over his body, sparks on his fingertips. There's heat low in his tummy and his mouth is dry and his vision is blurry and he can _feel_ Chansung around him, somewhere around him, near him, somewhere, so close, _so close_.

He reaches a hand out, left or right he doesn't know, his body isn't his right now, and his fingertips _itch_ the closer he gets to Chansung, to his skin, sweaty and glistening under the club lights. He can see him, can see the stretch of his navy blue shirt over his shoulders, the soft way his hair curls around his temple with sweat, the way the dip between his collarbones looks like the best spot to press his lips to.

Junho loves tequila. He loves it with a burning passion, throat burning, skin burning hot like hell. Junho loves it, loves the club they're in, loves the anonymity he and Chansung and Wooyoung have right now. Wooyoung— Wooyoung is somewhere in Junho's peripheral vision, dancing with this beautiful long-legged girl, and Junho bites at his lip as he moves with the beat, jealous of how _easy_ it is for Wooyoung, everything, the dancing, the flirting, the allure.

Junho's fingers land on soft, sweaty skin. It's a careful touch, too, nothing too obvious, nothing too serious, just for fun, yadda yadda. Chansung smiles at him like he's in on it, too, like the joke's on everyone else around them because _they don't know_. Junho relates in more way than one and throws a smile at him as he sways to the side, closer to Wooyoung and Long Legs, his hand still on Chansung's bare forearm.

Closer, they need to get closer.

Chansung licks his lips and Junho can feel it on his skin, can feel it at the back of his throat, the back of his teeth. He draws closer, raises his arms to the beat of the song, the bass pulsing through his body, and Junho's hand falls away, gets distracted with the way Chansung's shirt rides over the hem of his pants, the skin of his stomach visible and inviting and technicolor.

Junho wants to touch, wants to taste, wants to pull Chansung closer and taste the sweat at the back of his neck, wants to put his teeth to Chansung's pulse point and leave a trace of himself there.

Chansung moves like liquid, moves slowly and quick as all fucks, moves like he's on a mission and Junho is the target and Junho wants him so much it hurts in his joints, so deep within him his heart thrums in his chest, louder than any club song, harder than any bass. Chansung smirks down at him, lights shining off his teeth, draws even closer, too close, closer than ever, and leans down a little to press his lips to the shell of Junho's ear.

Junho's moan gets lost in the music.

"I'm gettin' a drink, wanna come," Chansung whispers-hollers in his ear, and Junho closes his eyes for three seconds, willing his dick to please stay the fuck down.

He opens them to find Chansung two inches away from his face, biting on his lip while waiting for Junho's response. Junho nods, can't trust himself to open his mouth otherwise he might drop to his knees and put it on Chansung's crotch instead. He finds Wooyoung and jerks his head towards the bar, but he might as well have addressed a plant, Wooyoung's face is buried in Long Leg's neck, both his hands hooked on the hem of her skirt.

Junho finds his way to the bar on wobbly legs. Bodies around him press in close, too close, and he _could_ , he could give in and dance the burn of the tequila away and sober up a little but—but the tingling under his skin is too much, too much and too good and he can still feel Chansung's skin under his fingertips, his lips on Junho's ear.

He presses in close when he spots Chansung, tucks himself into Chansung's side because it's what people do, especially when the club's packed like this; there's barely enough room for Chansung to ask for a round as it is.

Chansung leans into him, so easy, so fucking easy.

Junho puts his right hand on the counter, his left one on the small of Chansung's back, where his shirt is soaked and Junho can feel the dimples hiding underneath. He leans in close, noses the back of Chansung's ear, easy as nothing, because the music is loud and their voices can't be heard unless he does exactly this and it's the perfect excuse.

"I say we ditch Wooyoung and go back to my place," he says, nails digging in a little into Chansung's back, and the response is fucking _immediate_ : Chansung takes in a deep breath and parts his lips and licks them wet and Junho is running out of excuses to be pressed close like this and he doesn't fucking care.

The bartender drops two glass shots on their side of the counter and Chansung takes his with a trembling hand. Junho fucking _loves_ it, loves it so much he's willing to put up a façade again. He lets go of Chansung, puts some distance between them, and reaches for his shot of Patron. He raises it at Chansung, who's looking at him with dark, dark eyes, and they both down their drinks at the same time. Which sucks, really, because Junho wanted to catch the way Chansung's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

Chansung puts his glass down, the skin of his wrist pale under the blue lights of the bar. "Let's go," he mouths, shrugging a shoulder and fucking smirking at Junho.

Fuck, Junho _loves_ him.

  


They're both too drunk to drive. Actually Junho's not that drunk, not as before, but there's a pleasant buzz at the back of his mind and his skin is on fire, hot as all fucks, and having Chansung sitting so close to him in the back of a cab is better than all the Patron in the world.

It's quiet, too, quietly _stifling_ , and if it weren't for the radio playing softly in the back Junho would burst out of his skin.

"Wooyoung is gonna be so fucking hungover tomorrow," Chansung says five minutes into their ride.

Junho hums, head tipped back sideways against the seat, Seoul passing by his window in blurry detail. "We all needed to be hungover tomorrow."

Chansung chuckles. "That makes no sense, Junho."

"Of course it does," Junho says, "you know it does."

Chansung hums noncommittally and then they're silent again for a while. Until Junho feels deft fingers curl around his thigh and he yelps to mask a needy moan because fuck _yes_ , he wants Chansung and he's been wanting Chansung for a week now—or maybe for a lifetime, who knows—and he's ready to come if Chansung so much as tells him to.

He thumps his head back against the backrest and turns to fix Chansung with a look. "Don't start anything you won't finish," he whispers, and Chansung grins, the fucker, feral and charming and so fucking impossible, his fingers tightening and making Junho breathe a little harder.

Before Junho can open his mouth and curse at Chansung or maybe beg him to please fuck him right here and now, Chansung's directing the driver into Junho's street and ten seconds later they're pulling over and Chansung's fetching for his wallet.

Junho pushes the door open and takes the biggest gulp of air his lungs will let him. He tucks his hands in his pants' pockets and waits for Chansung to step off the car, and then they're making their way towards the entrance, side by side and elbows almost touching.

Junho is fucking glad his building has no cameras in the elevators because he'd been expecting Chansung to push him up against the wall as soon as they were inside and the fucker delivers like a _dream_ , wraps both hands around Junho's wrists and pins them above their heads, the cool metal surface a blessing against Junho's arms.

He doesn't lean in, he lets his mouth hover near Junho's for a fucking lifetime, breathes out straight into Junho's open and awaiting mouth and Junho can taste him on his tongue already, can feel Chansung breathing against his chest, hard and restless just as Junho is. His eyes are dark and intense and Junho loves him like this, coiled, tight energy under the mostly calm mask he puts on most days.

"You gonna kiss me?" he asks quietly into the thin space between their mouths.

Chansung swallows and presses in closer, until Junho can feel his half-hard cock against his hip. His mouth waters.

Chansung rolls his hips in response, slides a thigh between Junho's and hitches it up a little, tightens his grip around Junho's wrist, enough to make it hurt. It makes Junho close his eyes in fucking ecstasy, moan softly at the back of his throat and push back against Chansung's thigh, except Chansung is no longer there, he's pulling away, smirking at Junho as his hands fall to the side, no longer held in place.

The lift's doors open behind him and he bites his lip, walking backwards towards Junho's apartment, cock hard and constrained against his pants. Junho peels himself off the wall and steps into his floor on jelly-like feet, watching Chansung as he leans against Junho's door and cants his hips forward, a fucking cocktease on mile-long legs. "Fuck you," he whispers, heartfelt, and drags himself towards him, steps in close and closer, until he's got Chansung pinned to the door and Chansung's laughter echoes in Junho's chest.

He shoves a hand in between them, cups Chansung's dick through two layers of fabric and squeezes, the heel of his hand against Chansung's balls. Chansung's laughter dies a short, gasping death, and he moans, moans so beautifully Junho leans in to steal the sound away, licks Chansung's mouth open and licks his way inside, Chansung's hands finding their way into Junho's hair as Junho's free hand wraps around Chansung's neck, thumb against his pulse point. He can feel the way Chansung arches his hips into his touch and it's fucking electric, _Chansung_ is fucking electric, a wire let loose under Junho's hands and mouth and it's not fucking _enough_ , it never has been and it never will, Junho needs more, more, so much more.

Chansung's moans are getting louder, his hips are getting wilder, and as much as Junho loves it, he's not drunk enough to let himself get caught with his pants down by one of his neighbors. He pulls away and tries not to keel over at the sound Chansung makes as he chases Junho's mouth, and instead says, "I need to get the fuckin' door open."

Chansung moans again and tugs Junho closer by the hair and it takes Junho longer than he's willing to admit to punch in his security code to let themselves in.

As soon as the door is open behind him, Chansung lets go of his hair and instead gets a hold of the front of Junho's shirt, pulls him inside like he knows Junho's place better than anyone (which he does, probably), and starts taking backward steps into the foyer, barely even looking down as he toes his shoes off, breathing hard through his mouth. Junho watches him with something close to desperation sitting heavy on his stomach, clumsily taking his shoes off, and lets Chansung push him around the foyer until they're on the living room, until Junho's up against the wall on the fucking tips of his toes, his fingers curled around Chansung's wrists.

Chansung smirks slowly, rocks his hips into Junho's and it's only instinct when Junho's thighs open further apart. They're practically breathing the same air.

Chansung lets go of Junho's shirt and curves his hands along the curve of Junho's shoulders, down the expanse of his arms, until his fingers are wrapped loosely around Junho's wrists, and Junho shivers, swallows loudly. Chansung lifts Junho's wrists above his head, pins them to the wall with one of his and lets the other one roam down the front of Junho's shirt, undoing buttons one-handed.

"How do you want me to fuck you, Junho?" he presses the question to the side of Junho's jaw, teeth scraping over it lightly. His fingers trace down the expanse of exposed skin along his chest and Junho moans at the back of his throat, arching into the touch.

"Fuck," Junho whispers, barely getting air into his lungs, wraps a thigh shakily around Chansung's and grinds up. "I don't care, I –"

Chansung's teeth dig into a patch of skin on Junho's throat and they both moan, loud and breathless, hips moving. Chansung pulls away to look Junho in the eye, says, "Keep your hands above your head," voice shot straight to hell, and Junho moans again as Chansung drops to his knees and licks a path from Junho's navel to where the hem of his pants is riding low on his hips. Junho digs his fingers into his palms and keeps his hands where Chansung left them, can't even feel the strain on his shoulders through all the blood pumping south and closer to Chansung's mouth, closer to where his hands are undoing Junho's fly and zipper with alarming speed.

Junho bites on his lip as Chansung pulls both underwear and pants down Junho's thighs to let them pool around Junho's feet, and then they lock eyes, Chansung's gaze making Junho shudder.

"Do you want my mouth on your cock, Junho?" he asks, and Junho moans in response and nods so hard he nearly brains himself against the wall. Chansung's mouth hovers close near the base of Junho's cock and Junho can _feel it_ , can feel the ghost touch of Chansung's lips and tongue, and something in him breaks, lets loose, and he pants through the ache in his gut.

" _Please_ , Chansung," he whispers, and shivers as Chansung's hands set on his thighs, gentle and barely there. He closes his eyes and breathes in, lets his voice get louder and clearer, "Please, come on, please, babe, I want your mouth, _pl—_ "

Junho's plea dissolves into a high-pitched moan but he doesn't fucking care, all he cares about is Chansung's mouth on his dick, lips wrapped tight and perfect around it, tongue hot and warm and deft as he swallows more of Junho with each intake of air through his nose. Junho doesn't dare to open his eyes—when the fuck did he even close them—and focuses on sound and touch and the heat in his gut spreading up his chest. His arms are still held above his head and he's going to be sore as all fucks tomorrow but he doesn't care; it's only the start and it's gonna hurt even better later and Junho's mouth is watering for it.

Chansung pulls off with a wet pop, obscene in the quietness they're in. "Turn around," he says, voice like thunder.

Junho shivers and turns around on wobbly feet, and fuck, this is so much better; like this he can rest his forehead on the wall and put his hands to it for balance. He spreads his thighs as much as his pants will let him and Chansung makes a guttural sound at the back of his throat, closes both hands on Junho's hips to pin him in place and whispers, "Don't touch your cock," right against Junho's hole and Junho can't fucking compute anymore.

Junho clenches his eyes shut at the first touch of Chansung's tongue and bites down on his cheek so he won't scream, so he won't wake the whole fucking building because Chansung's tongue in his ass feels fucking amazing and the world needs to know about it. Chansung eats him out like a fucking pro, pins Junho's hips to the wall so tight Junho's cock barely has room to _exist_ , licks him open like he's been born to do it and shoves his tongue inside, so tight and perfect Junho mewls against the wall, cheek pressed to it, fingers scrambling for purchase anywhere he can reach. His thighs are shaking the deeper Chansung fucks his tongue into him, his cock is so hard it hurts, and Chansung doesn't ease up, doesn't let Junho breathe or chase his orgasm because he knows if Junho comes now it won't be as great as they can make it.

Junho's panting open-mouthed against the wall, can feel drool at the corner of his mouth, can feel his cock leak a little against the fucking wall, too, and that's gonna be a bitch to clean later. If he remembers, that is. "Fucking _hell_ ," he moans when Chansung's tongue seems to go even deeper.

Chansung pulls away to breathe hot air against the wet trail his tongue has left. "Missed doin' this," he says, lips dragging up Junho's balls. "Missed the sounds you make while I'm doin' this."

Junho rolls his forehead against the wall, slowly, eyes still clenched shut. "M'gonna come if you keep at it, though."

Chansung chuckles, low and dark, heady against Junho's hole. "We should move this to your room," he murmurs, and licks a broad path from Junho's balls to the small of his back.

Junho breathes deeply through his nose, can feel Chansung moving behind him and pulling himself to his feet, but Junho can't move, not yet, he needs to pull himself from the brink of coming all over his wall if he so much as breathes the wrong way. He swallows a couple of times past a dry throat, lets his hands fall from the wall, his shoulder blades unlocking and stinging a little.

Chansung comes up behind him, somehow missing his shirt already, the skin of his chest hot against Junho's back. He kisses the top of Junho's spine. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Junho says, and pulls himself off the wall and into Chansung, stepping off his ruined pants as he goes. Chansung wraps an arm around Junho's middle but doesn't move, just drags his lips from Junho's nape to the side of his throat, and Junho lets his head tip to the other side, making room for Chansung's wandering mouth. "I thought you said—"

"Shut up for a second," Chansung murmurs, low and sultry against Junho's pulse point. He drags his hand from Junho's middle down his stomach, wraps it loosely around Junho's cock, strokes up and down once, twice, makes Junho squirm and shiver and moan, the slide of his palm made easier by sweat and pre-come.

He holds Chansung's wrist with a shaky hand, slows him down, tilts his face to press his lips to Chansung's temple, whispering, "If I come I wanna do it with your cock in me. Okay?"

Chansung groans, letting go of Junho's cock, and slowly guides them towards Junho's room.

Once in there, Chansung turns and tugs Junho closer, and Junho puts his hands on Chansung's chest as soon as he's within touching distance, circles his nipples with his thumbs, makes Chansung gasp softly. Chansung's hands fall to the small of his back, move lower and cup Junho's ass to pull him closer, until their hips are snug against each other and Junho's balls rest against warm denim.

Chansung rolls his hips and Junho moans softly, their foreheads pressed together, and Junho bites down onto his lip, nails digging into Chansung's pecs. "Come on," he whispers, tilting his head up to breathe the words into Chansung's mouth, "come on, fuck me, fuck me already, please."

"So impatient," Chansung whispers back, wonder and awe in his voice. He ducks a little and bites on Junho's chin, noses the top of his cheek. "Get on the bed."

Junho shivers and plants a kiss on the corner of Chansung's mouth before pulling away and doing as told, lying flat on his back and breathing hard up at the ceiling, eyes trained on Chansung and Chansung's hands undoing the front of his pants. He pushes them down and he's going fucking commando, how fucking dare of him.

" _I'm_ the impatient one, huh?" he asks, grinning.

Chansung grins back, kicking his jeans off. His dick is hard, thick and curved against his tummy and Junho needs it in his mouth so bad he can hardly breathe. He licks his lips and Chansung moves towards him, kneels by the foot of the bed and then moves up the expanse of Junho's body on hands and knees, stops by Junho's cock to drag his tongue from base to tip once and make Junho scream before he's bracketing Junho's chest with his thighs, one hand wrapped around his cock and stroking slowly, face tight and eyes burning.

Junho's about to take over Chansung's hand with his own when Chansung smirks and shakes his head. "No hands," he says, and Junho's mouth waters as Chansung slides closer, close enough to let the tip of his dick rest on Junho's lower lip. Junho drops his hands on Chansung's hips and leaves them there.

Chansung cards a hand through Junho's hair and Junho opens his mouth wider, lets Chansung push his cock into his mouth at his own pace, feeling the weight of it on his tongue. Chansung licks his lips and fucks Junho's mouth slowly, painfully slow, pulls off just to scoot higher up the bed and let Junho lick around his balls and draw one carefully into his mouth. He moans like he's in pain and Junho's dick twitches with the sound, so turned on it hurts everywhere.

"Thought you were gonna fuck me," he murmurs against the delicate skin behind Chansung's balls, his neck straining with the effort.

Chansung grunts. "So fucking impatient, I swear."

Junho slides his hands up Chansung's sides, up the planes of his abs, tight with every careful roll of his hips, and rolls Chansung's nipples between thumb and forefinger. Chansung curses under his breath and Junho grins, grins wider when Chansung tilts his hips and shoves his dick into Junho's mouth, the tip sliding closer to the back of his throat with each thrust. Junho moans around it because this is exactly how he loves it, exactly how he wants it, and Chansung's grip on his hair tightens to keep Junho's head and mouth in place.

"Fuck, you've been gagging for it, haven't you," Chansung muses aloud, and Junho blinks up at him, scratches down Chansung's chest and tummy with his nails, and his own hips roll up and thrust into air when Chansung's own thrusts grow harder, less refined.

Junho closes his eyes and breathes carefully through his nose, holds onto Chansung's hips and lets his mouth be used as Chansung goddamn pleases, until Junho's lips are tight around the base and his throat is tight with cock and his nose is buried in hoarse pubic hair and Chansung is moaning like this is the best thing that's ever happened to him and everything but the sounds he's making is white noise around Junho.

When he pulls away and his cock slips free from Junho's mouth, Junho feels fucking _empty_.

Junho bites his lip around a smirk as Chansung gets off him. "Finally gonna fuck me? I'm losing hope, here."

Chansung rolls to the side and stretches over the side of the bed and towards Junho's night stand. His ass looks fucking amazing as he does it. "Gonna try and fuck the impatience out of you, how about it?"

Junho wraps a hand around his cock, strokes slowly to ease the edge off a little. "I'd like to see you try."

When Chansung rolls back into Junho, he's got the bottle of lube in one hand. He sits back on his heels and curls his hands over the back of Junho's knees. "Roll over, I wanna eat you out first."

Junho grins again and slowly rolls onto his stomach, pulling his knees under him to push his ass up in the air. He cranes around and finds Chansung biting on his lip and wrapping his fingers in a tight circle around the base of his cock. Junho licks his lips and waits, fingers digging into the duvet.

Once he gets himself together, Chansung crawls closer and rests both hands on Junho's ass, on each cheek, and spreads him open. Junho feels fucking vulnerable like this but he doesn't care, can't care, not when Chansung's mouth is on him again, his thumbs holding Junho's hole open while he licks inside, lips wrapped tight over the rim. Junho's lungs are too big in his chest, he moans loud and breathless and Chansung's tongue goes deeper still, and Junho loves it, loves every second of it, of this, of them, loves the bickering and banter and the amazing filthy sex and he loves Chansung and he loves—

"We don't always have filthy sex, though," Chansung says amusedly, his mouth pressed to Junho's balls. "Sometimes we have regular sex, too, Junho, come on."

"Why are you still talking, damn it." Junho feels Chansung's laughter pressed to his spine. "Come on," he presses, wiggling his ass, "come on."

Junho has to wrap a hand around his dick when he hears the lube being uncapped. "I love you, too, by the way," Chansung says, and pushes two lubed fingers into Junho, the stretch burning but not enough to keep Junho from moaning and rocking his hips for more.

His fingers tighten on the duvet as Chansung thrusts his deeper, crooks them as he pulls out. Junho could (and has) come like this, with Chansung's fingers deep inside of him, slowly stroking at his prostate, but he needs more, he wants more, and by the time Chansung's got four fingers buried in him Junho's going _mad_ with how much he _wants_. He clenches around the fingers in him and makes Chansung hiss, makes Chansung pull them out and a lifetime goes by until Chansung's lubed his dick up and aligned himself to Junho's hole, the tip barely there.

"You want it like this?" Chansung asks, voice slurred and wrecked, and Junho nods, propping his elbows on the pillow and burying his face between them.

Chansung's hand is warm when it settles over Junho's hip to hold him steady. Junho braces himself for it, for the slow burn of Chansung pushing into him, and when it finally happens, when Chansung starts pushing in, inch by slow inch, Junho moans, can feel it rippling through his throat. Chansung keeps going, mostly because he knows that if he stops Junho will murder him in his sleep, and when he's all the way in, balls deep and fucking amazing, Junho can breathe a little easier, better than he has in days.

"What do you want, Junho?" Chansung asks quietly into the center of Junho's back, right in between his shoulder blades.

What he wants right now is Chansung's cock splitting him open, driving in so deep Junho'll feel it in his fucking _throat_.

"Move," Junho croaks, and he spreads his thighs a little wider apart, lets Chansung press impossibly closer and bury his cock deeper in Junho. They both moan when Junho clenches around it, and Junho's fingers tighten around the pillow he's holding under his head, meets one of Chansung's thrusts with one of his own and sees fucking stars at the back of his eyes, can feel heat spreading through his body like a blanket.

"Fuck," Junho moans when Chansung fucks into him again, harder this time, making the bed rattle. "Harder, again, come on."

Chansung chuckles and bites onto the back of Junho's neck and Junho mewls, rocks into Chansung so hard they both groan, and rather than making Chansung get on with it and fuck Junho into next week, he slows down, keeps the thrusts deep but slow and Junho wants to fucking _scream_.

"Impatient little bitch," Chansung whispers with sentiment, and Junho's moans get louder, his throat raw with them.

One of Chansung's hands is on the bed, near Junho's head, and Junho wraps shaky fingers around Chansung's wrist, where the skin is pulled tight over his straining muscles, and squeezes, and that seems to be it, that does the trick, makes Chansung's hips snap forward so hard Junho slides an inch up the bed, cheek raw against the pillowcase.

"Fuck, just like that," he moans, and Chansung fucks him just like that, fucks him hard and fast and so deep Junho can feel it on his tongue, is sure he'll feel it for days.

Chansung presses his mouth to Junho's ear, lets out all these indecent sounds against it, and Junho is so turned on he can barely stand it anymore, his thighs are shaking and he's gonna come untouched, he's gonna come with Chansung's dick buried deep inside him and it's gonna be fucking fantastic.

"I'm so close," he lets out, barely audible through the pillow he's got his face buried in. Chansung speeds up and sucks Junho's earlobe into his mouth, bites on it and soothes it with the tip of his tongue only to do it again.

"You gonna come untouched," Chansung says against his ear, doesn't even ask because he doesn't _have to_ , because Junho loves it like this, intense and raw, "you gonna come like this, with my cock in you."

Junho rolls his forehead against the pillow, feels his balls tighten, has to bite down on his lip not to scream himself raw. He clenches his fingers on the covers, knuckles white. He feels raw all over, like an exposed nerve, like he could burst at the seams any second now.

Chansung sucks on a spot behind Junho's ear, teeth scraping a little over the skin, says, "I'm gonna come inside you, babe," so low and so quiet and so fucking dirty, "and then I'll watch my come drip out of you, trickling down your balls, make a mess of your bed," Junho tightens all over, can feel his orgasm on his fingertips, on the tip of his tongue and the back of his throat, Chansung's thrusts going deeper if possible, harder, so fucking hard, fuck. He goes on, slow and sweet like syrup, Junho can feel the words on his ear, "I'm gonna watch my come drip outta you, Junho, and I'm gonna fuck it right back in."

Junho loses it. It's all white noise and darkness behind his eyes, his skin pulled tight everywhere, muscles aching, locking and releasing. He might scream as he comes all over his duvet but it's hard to tell, he can't hear a thing, the rush of blood in his ears unbearable and deafening, and he comes so hard he stops breathing for what feels like _eons_ , so hard and so good there are tears in the corners of his eyes.

Chansung fucks him hard through it, thrusts steady, and when he comes, Junho is sure he comes again, because his stomach flips itself over and heat spreads through him like fucking wildfire, his balls _aching_. His throat feels fucked up when he tries to utter Chansung's name, and Chansung is moaning as he comes, so keenly and so deep, and Junho can feel it inside him, can feel the warmth of Chansung's come as he thrusts slowly in and out and empties himself in Junho.

Once half his senses have returned from war and Chansung's thrusts make them both shudder, Junho tries the whole talking thing again.

"Fuck," is what he comes up with once he realizes his voice sounds less like the dead. His thighs are shaking and he's not sure he'd hold his weight up like this if Chansung weren't holding onto his hips so tight.

"You got that right," Chansung slurs, holding Junho's hips steady and pulling out carefully, inch by inch, and Junho feels his bones rattle a little under his skin.

He flushes all over again when he feels Chansung's come start to trickle out of him, and before he can warn Chansung not to get any ideas or else Junho might _fucking die_ , Chansung's mouth is on him, his tongue is _in_ him, and Junho can't fucking breathe anymore.

**_the end._ **


End file.
